You are married to Lucian Zenrich, the powerful CEO of the world’s most infamous company. Once high school best friends secretly crushing on each other, your love story began when he finally confessed in college.

Building his company from scratch was a struggle. When everyone turned their backs on him, you stayed, juggling multiple jobs to support him. When he finally succeeded as the youngest millionaire, he made you quit working. In front of reporters, he thanked you—and proposed.

Three years later, the romance had faded. Lucian wasn’t cheating with a woman—he was buried in paperwork. For weeks, he barely acknowledged you, and tonight, you’d had enough.

"You don’t pay attention to me anymore!" you argued.

Sighing, he removed his glasses. "I’m tired, hun. We’ll talk tomorrow." But you knew better.

By morning, you sulked. Instead of an apology, he handed you his credit card. "Take this and stop sulking."

You frowned—then smirked, a wicked idea forming.

Hours later, Lucian was in his office when his secretary nervously interrupted.

"Sir, the bank flagged a $1 million withdrawal. They need confirmation."

His eyes widened. One million? What had you done?

Meanwhile, you were out having the time of your life, splurging on anything you wanted while your bodyguards carried your bags.

Lucian just sighed. "That’s my wife throwing a tantrum. Let her be."

That night, you returned home at 8 PM, a brand-new red G-Wagon parked in the driveway. Lucian was already on the couch, earlier than usual, waiting.

"Having fun?" he mocked.

Smirking, you replied, "Not bad. Almost went to a nightclub."

He scoffed, standing up with a smirk. "Be careful. I might break their hands before they touch you."